Faithful
by Paradox.bookjunkie
Summary: Voldemort and Bellatrix. Written for the Birthday Bash Exchange


_**Faithful**_

**A/N – Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own the plot.**

**For the Birthday Bash Competition.**

**I hope the recipient will enjoy it ;)**

**I'm sorry I didn't use your prompts! :/ **

The cell walls closed in as the shadows grew longer.

She'd long ago given up on the small hole in the corner across from her that she'd made, clawing at the ground with a large jagged stone and, when the stone had worn to nothing, her own talon-like fingernails.

She'd given up on any chance of freedom.

_Freedom_.

Even the word sounded sweet.

Huddling deeper in her tattered robes, she tried to ignore the cold that seeped up through the thin fabric from the cold, hard-packed floor.

She'd also given up on comfort. The barren cell block extinguished the very thought of it.

The dementors had made their twilight round a while ago, but she was still clammy with the cold sweat they always left on her skin. The air prickled uncomfortably at the moisture, making her convulse into uncontrollable shivers.

The moon was the only light and it reflected in a small pool of water that gathered in a dip in the ground.

Suddenly, as she watched, the reflection started to shimmer and then fracture as ripples sliced across its surface. Her body shook with the force of tremors that came from the ground, getting larger and larger every minute.

She clutched her clawed hands to her head in pain as an ear-splitting shriek ripped through the air. It seemed to go on and on, as she screamed in pain.

Suddenly, a heavy silence fell.

Expectant.

Waiting.

And the entire prison shook with the force of an explosion.

Her hands clenched into fists as her eyes screwed tightly together, her nails biting painfully into her palms. Tears streamed down her face.

Even as the explosion subsided, she stayed like that, curled in a small ball like a child hiding from a thunderstorm.

Through the ringing silence that followed, she heard quiet, slow footsteps. She raised her head.

Then, the yelling started.

There were screams and groans of pain and suffering. They told stories of years and years of torture and repentance, of guilt and sorrow. Slowly, she realized that they seemed to move with the sound of the footsteps.

Was this person…_looking_ for someone?

She got up, knees buckling with un-use as she pulled herself up. Dragging herself across the floor, hiccupping with sobs, she slammed herself against the metal rods, craning her neck to get even the smallest glimpse of the person.

All she could see, though, were hands. Hundreds and hundreds of hands stretched along the corridor; reaching out pitifully to someone she couldn't see.

She followed suit, slamming herself against the wall of her cell – her cage – again ignoring the burst of pain that accompanied it, stretching her arms through the bars.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the slow footsteps approached her cell and stopped. The person's face, one she had not glimpsed in thirteen years, was illuminated by a single beam of moonlight and she fell painfully to her knees again.

He had come for her, like she'd dreamt all those years ago. Here he was, in flesh, after they'd all said he was gone, vanquished. Pathetic. They weren't loyal. Not as she was.

And he was here to reward her. Reward her for the thirteen years she'd wasted away in prison for him. Reward for her undying love.

And they were all going to pay. They'd make them, every last one of them. Together.

"My _Lord_!" she gasped. She lowered her pitiful body to the ground in a bow of pure admiration. "My Lord," she murmured again, words muffled by the dirt floor. She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes that shone like stars. "My Lord, I knew you'd come for me!"

The man reached a long, pale finger through the bars. He tilted her chin up towards him. She closed her eyes and leaned into him as he drew a long line along her jaw.

"Bellatrix," he crooned softly, tilting her head up once again. "My most faithful servant, I _have_ missed you." He smiled slightly. "Now, come, we have much to do." He looked behind him and nodded.

She followed his gaze and saw a crowd of others she hadn't seen in years and a slow, cruel smile spread across her face.

How she'd missed this.


End file.
